Before long, Nanao gradually regained her composure.
Unlike before, she no longer obsessed over the fact that she had been unable to awaken a Zanpakutō.
During the past two years, she had studied under the Vice Commander of the Kidō Corps, Hachigen Ushōda.
It had to be admitted…
Hachigen was an exceptionally gentle teacher.
Initially, he had only agreed to instruct her because someone had personally requested it.
While supervising the maintenance and reinforcement of Seireitei’s barriers, he spared time whenever possible to teach Nanao advanced Kidō.
As time passed, he gradually came to appreciate the diligent young woman.
Nanao’s aptitude for Kidō was extraordinary.
In Hachigen’s eyes, there were many different kinds of Kidō geniuses.
Some excelled at casting spells without incantations while maintaining their full power.
Others possessed exceptional creativity, allowing them to develop entirely new Kidō techniques.
Still others could master countless spells and even cast several simultaneously without mutual interference.
Nanao belonged to a different category altogether.
Her greatest talent lay in her astonishing precision.
Any Kidō technique she mastered could be controlled with extraordinary accuracy.
Every spell landed exactly where she intended.
Those she wished to strike would never escape.
Those she wished to avoid would never suffer even the slightest injury.
Such talent possessed tremendous potential.
If she could eventually master incantation-less casting as well, the concealment and tactical value of her Kidō would increase dramatically.
Against powerful opponents…
She might one day weave countless invisible traps together until her enemy unknowingly stepped into inevitable defeat.
Because of that admiration, Hachigen devoted considerable effort to guiding her.
He even taught her numerous techniques unrelated to the Kidō Corps’ official curriculum.
Little by little…
Nanao gradually stopped dwelling upon her inability to awaken a Zanpakutō.
After all…
The Kidō Corps itself had almost no need for Zanpakutō.
More accurately…
Those who joined the Kidō Corps while already possessing a Zanpakutō were required to destroy it completely, returning the soul fragments sealed within it back into themselves.
It was an ancient tradition established by the very first Grand Chief of the Kidō Corps.
Throughout history…
No successor had ever questioned that rule.
Viewed from that perspective…
Successfully forging a Zanpakutō only to destroy it afterward seemed even more heartbreaking.
Perhaps…
Someone like Nanao, who had never awakened one in the first place, was actually perfectly suited for the Kidō Corps.
After returning to Shin’ō Academy, every seventh-year student who had participated in the Konsō mission was summoned for evaluation by the academy’s instructors.
Among them…
Those who had remained behind to confront the Hollows naturally received the highest assessments.
Nanao’s calm command during the crisis particularly impressed many instructors.
Several even suggested recommending her directly to one of the Gotei Thirteen divisions.
Although her inability to awaken a Zanpakutō prevented her from serving as a seated officer, numerous administrative positions within the Gotei Thirteen would suit her talents perfectly.
Unexpectedly…
Nanao showed no excitement whatsoever.
“I’d like some time to think about it.”
Leaving behind only that simple answer…
She quietly departed.
As she walked alone through the familiar paths of Shin’ō Academy, contemplating her future, someone suddenly appeared before her.
Captain Shunsui Kyōraku.
The first sentence he spoke caused her eyes to widen instantly.
“Little Nanao…”
“You’ve grown so much.”
“I knew your mother.”
Before she could even process those words…
The gesture felt strangely intimate.
Ordinarily, Nanao would have become irritated.
Yet…
For some reason…
She couldn’t bring herself to feel angry.
She had always respected the Captain of the Eighth Division.
Now…
An inexplicable sense of familiarity also welled up from deep within her heart.
She wanted to ask him countless questions.
Why had he never appeared before now?
Who was her father?
Why had no one ever told her anything?
Yet somehow…
None of those words would leave her mouth.
Instead…
Tears silently rolled down her cheeks.
The sight immediately threw Kyōraku into a panic.
Completely abandoning his usual carefree demeanor, he hurriedly grabbed the sleeve of his captain’s haori and awkwardly tried wiping away her tears.
The next moment…
Nanao suddenly threw herself into his arms.
Quiet sobs echoed against his chest.
Kyōraku froze briefly.
Then…
His stiff arms slowly relaxed.
Gently patting her back, his expression softened completely.
“You’ve worked hard…”
“Far too hard.”
Nanao’s tears quickly soaked his clothes.
Truthfully…
She normally wouldn’t have cried so openly.
However…
The life-and-death battle she had just experienced had pushed every emotion she had suppressed for years to the surface.
Before Kyōraku arrived…
She had already resolved to use a dangerous Kidō she couldn’t fully control.
She hadn’t been afraid of dying.
Only…
Regretful.
After her mother’s death, the Ise Clan had become nothing more than an empty shell.
The relatives who occasionally appeared seemed less like family and more like passing visitors.
Fortunately…
At Shin’ō Academy, she had met Chigusa Rin.
His friendship had eased much of her loneliness.
Even something as simple as helping him collect rare plant seeds had given her a comforting sense of being needed.
When she believed she might die moments earlier…
The only thought that crossed her mind was that perhaps only Rin would truly grieve for her.
Even then…
Knowing his gentle personality…
She believed he would probably help fulfill any wishes she left behind.
Now…
Someone who might actually be her closest remaining relative had suddenly appeared before her.
He had brought news of her mother.
It felt as though someone had finally restored meaning to the life she had struggled through alone.
That…
Was why she could no longer hold back her tears.
The gentleness Kyōraku displayed at that moment was completely different from his usual teasing and carefree attitude.
For once…
He looked less like the eccentric captain everyone knew…
And more like an ordinary man carrying years of regret. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Unfortunately…
No one else witnessed the scene.
Meanwhile…
As Rin escorted the wounded students toward the Fourth Division, he encountered someone unexpected.
“Vice Captain Aizen.”
The seated officer leading the Fifth Division escort immediately bowed respectfully toward the approaching group.
Standing at the front…
Was Fifth Division Vice Captain Sōsuke Aizen.
“Are these the academy students injured during the Konsō mission?”
Aizen gently adjusted his glasses.
Concern filled his calm expression.
The warm smile upon his face somehow eased the anxiety carried by nearly every injured student.
“Yes.”
“Captain Hirako has already dealt with the situation.”
“Captain Kyōraku also arrived at the scene.”
The seated officer briefly explained everything that had happened.
Aizen quietly nodded.
Turning toward the injured students, he spoke reassuringly.
“There’s no need to worry.”
“Your injuries won’t negatively affect your graduation evaluations.”
“If anything…”
“This experience will become part of your accomplishments.”
“You have my word.”
Gratitude immediately appeared on everyone’s faces.
Their admiration for the widely respected Vice Captain deepened even further.
Only then did Aizen’s gaze shift toward Rin.
“Oh?”
“Rin.”
“Were you injured as well?”
Rin respectfully shook his head.
“Vice Captain Aizen.”
“I only accompanied everyone here in case the Fourth Division needed additional assistance.”
“I’m completely unharmed.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
Aizen smiled helplessly.
“We’ve met several times already.”
“Yet you’re still so formal.”
His tone carried the familiarity of someone speaking to a junior he appreciated.
“Very well.”
“You all should continue on.”
“I still have matters to attend to.”
“If not for everything happening in Rukongai recently…”
“I would’ve gone personally to assist.”
With that…
The two groups passed one another.
Only after Aizen disappeared into the distance did several students quietly gather around Rin.
“So…”
“You actually know Lord Aizen?”
Rin simply smiled.
“We’ve only met a few times while I was studying in the Fourth Division.”
When more questions followed…
He gave no further answers.
Instead…
He silently watched the direction in which Aizen had disappeared.
Within his eyes…
A trace of complicated emotion quietly surfaced.